


The escape

by silverynight



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, M/M, Prophetic Visions, grindelwald is completely gone, he's seen newt in his visions, newt accidentally helps grindelwald escape, newt refuses to believe any of it, smitten grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 21:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16375067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverynight/pseuds/silverynight
Summary: What Newt wanted was to save a group of thestrals, he never intended to help the dark lord to escape.And yet… he did.





	The escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mischiefs_Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischiefs_Hawk/gifts).



It’s the last time for him; last time he goes to answer one of the MACUSA’s calls.

Newt looks at the wounds on the thestral’s neck, perfectly aware that they were inflicted by the caretakers. He glances at the others only to confirm his suspicion: they’re being abused.

He turns around, fire burning inside his chest, hands closed into fists; the five aurors next to Seraphina Picquery look shock to see him like that.

“The thestrals can’t fly because they’re tired, they wounded. The people in charge of them don’t have any idea of how to take care of–”

“Can you make them fly?” Madam President interrupts him, face neutral. “Because this needs to be done tonight.”

Holding back a gasp, Newt does something unexpected: he stares right into her eyes, too upset to think about his shyness for a moment.

“You don’t care,” he blurts out. “They’re too wounded to fly tonight and you don’t care.”

“There are more important things to take care of, Mr. Scamander,” she glares back. “So I’ll ask again: can you make them or not? Because these things are going to fly tonight with your help or without it.”

They’ll get sick if Newt doesn’t give them at least a healing potion and they would never let him take them.

So he complies, a dangerous idea forming in his mind as he looks at the black carriage behind him. It’s completely closed and yet Newt feels something… like he’s being watched.

“What’s in there?” He asks, wondering just how important is for that to reach its destination.

“It’s classified and none of your business,” Picquery snaps. “Are you done?”

Newt gives the last thestral some of the potion and caresses his muzzle gently.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers to the creature. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

***

The voice that’s telling him it’s not a good idea sounds awfully lot like Theseus’. He would have gotten an aneurysm just by watching Newt, in the middle of the night, in a storm, flying over his broom to follow MACUSA’s carriage to try to free five thestrals.

He’s way behind the carriage (that’s the only way he could think to not be seen by the aurors, although he’s sure they wouldn’t try to attack him right away).

He’s getting soaked, but he’s too focused to think about a warmth spell. Then, there’s a flash of green light coming from inside the carriage and the aurors move quickly closer to it.

Newt takes the opportunity to free one of the thestrals, the creature fluttering away, but staying still close to the rest.

Smiling at his triumph, Newt tries to get closer, but he gets stunned while he’s looking for a way to cut the rest of the leash; the last thing he sees, before falling from the broom is more green flashes and a furious figure stepping on top of the carriage.

When his eyes finally blink open, he realizes he’s warm and dry already, case on his lap.

He’s inside the carriage; the body next to him (because the man has no pulse anymore) looks like Gellert Grindelwald. But he’s not, because the real dark lord is currently hovering over him, staring with a smirk tugging at his lips.

Newt shivers, because it’s the only thing he can do, he’s still affected by the spell.

“I’ve been seeing you for six months; dreams, visions, I’ve seen you everywhere,” he says, although it looks more like he’s just talking to himself. “I feel like I know you and yet I was not prepared to see you face to face. Nothing compares to this.”

Grindelwald reaches out to him, but Newt flinches away, starting to get back the control over his body. To his surprise, the dark lord doesn’t touch him.

“Why did you stun me?”

The dark lord looks almost outraged at the question.

“You could’ve died,” Grindelwald says simply and after looking at Newt’s confused expression, he adds: “So it wasn’t me, I’d never risk your life.”

Newt doesn’t know why he bothers, it’s not like he’d believe him. He should be worried about what’s going to happen next.

“And now, why are you gonna do?”

Grindelwald grins, blond hair falling over his face.

“Now you’re going to go with your thestrals and I’ll take care of the rest.”

It’s still raining, but he doesn’t care; he realizes the carriage has stopped completely, so he jumps out to the group of thestrals, resting for awhile in the ground.

It seems they’re in the middle of some kind of forest.

“You don’t have to worry; they’ll blame me for everything. No one that saw what happened is left, no one will know you’re here.”

Newt’s not sure what’s going on or why suddenly Grindelwald is being so nice to him; it could be… It has to be a trap. But instead of seeing anger or something dangerous in those eyes, Newt finds sorrow.

It’s like being stared back by loneliness itself; Newt recognizes the emotion and shakes his head for a moment, refusing to recognize such an emotion in the dark lord.

Because making him so human and vulnerable makes Newt want to approach and comfort him, he wants to reach out and touch his cheek and ask what happened; his fingers are itching, desperate to heal and caress, like he always does with the creatures he encounters.

But Newt doesn’t do that, for the first time he fights his own instinct and walks towards one of the thestrals instead. He needs the leader of the little herd to get them out of there.

Thinking he’s going to be attacked, Newt touches one of the thestrals and giggles when the creature nuzzles him despite of his fear. Surprised, he jumps up the creature, and notices Grindelwald, soaked, standing under the rain, just staring at him with that lonely look in his eyes.

“You never stay, in my visions… you never do,” he says, a smile quirking up his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No matter what I do or what I say. Nothing ever stops you leaving.”

Newt closes his eyes, refusing to believe any of those words, he doesn’t want to think they’re real, because Grindelwald is a manipulator… right. But when he opens his eyes again, he just sees raw emotion… there’s nothing fake in it.

And yet… It couldn’t be real, could it?

Grindelwald smiles then, hopeful.

“Although I know there’ll be a day where you don’t leave. I’m just waiting for it.”

Newt turns his head away, he strokes the creatures’ neck. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of you all.”

The thestral starts flying away, the others following behind.

“Goodbye, Newton. We’ll see each other again.”


End file.
